


owned

by zogratiscest



Category: Black Clover - Tabata Yuki (Anime & Manga)
Genre: BDSM, Cock Warming, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, Kneeling, M/M, Manhandling, Master/Pet, Masturbation, Nipple Play, Ownership, Praise Kink, Trans Male Character, Trans Yuno, Underage Sex, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:35:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29540379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zogratiscest/pseuds/zogratiscest
Summary: yuno goes to asta's on the weekends after school.
Relationships: Asta/Yuno (Black Clover)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43





	owned

On Friday afternoon, Yuno takes the train to the other end of the city instead of in the familiar direction of home. Ralph works late on the weekends, and he trusts Yuno enough to believe the countless lies about staying with friends until Sunday evening when he comes home to prepare for the coming school week. Yuno always answers when Ralph texts him or calls him. When home, he does his share of the chores, finishes his homework as soon as he gets home, and reads or studies on most days until he heads to bed.

Quiet. Soft-spoken. Too mature for such a young age. Yuno is used to this. Most of the adults in his life have always viewed him like this, and it makes it easy to lie. Ralph has never poked into any of his stories enough to find any inconsistencies, and Yuno never gives him a reason to be concerned that something else might be going on.

It means keeping a clean pair of underwear in his bag that will be wadded up and thrown into the wash with his school uniform to ensure Ralph never notices a pair is missing. Yuno usually does the laundry, but sometimes it gets taken out of his hands, and he likes to plan for little things like that. His guardian doesn’t need to know that one day out of the week, Yuno rides the train without any briefs beneath the pants of his uniform.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he checks it reflexively. Ralph, of course, asking if he’s on the way to stay with Mimosa— who  _ will _ cover for him, though Ralph will never call her or her parents. And of course Yuno lies, typing out the familiar diatribe about them heading home together and preparing for a test next week before they relax for the weekend.

Halfway through the message, another text pops up. This one is from Asta.

Yuno’s mouth dries as he eyes the notification before finishing his message and sending it off to his guardian. Despite having a young boy dropped in his lap so suddenly, Ralph has handled taking care of Yuno as best anyone could in his situation. Ralph’s father died when he was young, and Yuno’s parents looked after him because Ralph’s father had been their dear friend. So it only made sense that Ralph would repay the favor and, at the age of twenty-one, take in a six-year-old child who had just lost everything.

_ Nine years ago. _ It feels like it could have been yesterday, sometimes. Yuno shakes his head and opens the second message, his heart rate picking up as he glances at the occupants of his train car. No one is looking at him. Everyone here is preoccupied with their own lives, and no one notices him furtively examining each one of them.

How would they know, anyway? Yuno looks like any other student who might be taking the train home. There is no neon sign on his forehead proclaiming that he’s riding off to his boyfriend’s house, or who that boyfriend is. No one else has to know unless Yuno tells them, and he has resisted the urge to tell a single soul because the sheer amount of trouble it would cause for the both of them is too great. And Yuno would lose him.

It might be wrong, but Asta has been keeping him grounded for the last year and a half, and Yuno has no desire to let him go now when he needs him the most.

_ On the way? _ A simple message. Yuno’s stomach flutters slightly in excitement and he bites his lip, casting a glance around the train once again before pulling up his keyboard to reply.

_ I’m on the train. I’ll be there soon. _ He worries his bottom lip between his teeth before clicking Send, his hand wrapped tight around his phone as he waits for the reply that he knows is coming. Asta never leaves him hanging and always ensures that he sends the last message, and for some childish reason, Yuno finds that comforting.

A vibration. Yuno glances down, and it’s Asta’s name on his phone screen again.  _ Food’s on the stove. We’ll do actual dinner tonight. Door’s unlocked, so you can get ready. _

Get ready. Yuno exhales. Bites back a smile and nods, and again types up a reply. The two of them mostly talk about his school day, as they do every day when he’s on the way home. He especially wants to get the small talk out of the way on Fridays, when he spends the entire weekend with Asta and would rather focus on him, on  _ them, _ than school.

As long as he keeps his grades up, Asta won’t make him touch his books. He has to send a copy of his report card to Asta every time he receives it so that Asta knows whether or not he is lying, and if Yuno does especially well, he gets rewarded for it.

By the time the train reaches his stop, Yuno is smiling. A ridiculous, childish smile. The smile of a teenage boy off to meet his sweetheart, his typical calm and collected facade completely shattered by something as simple as attention from Asta. But Yuno has always been weak for him, and Asta knows exactly how to make him smile.

Now, the only thing standing between the two of them is the walking distance.

Yuno lives in a townhouse in the wealthiest part of the city, where people turn up their noses to this stretch of the world. There are businesses packed close together, streets teeming with people, apartments looking over the busy roads that usually stay active until late into the night. Students in various uniforms brush past him on their way to their own after-school locales and no one pays a second glance to Yuno, who fades into the crowd nicely here. He prefers anonymity for his sake, as well as Asta’s.

The apartment complex where Asta lives is a fifteen minute walk from the train station, and Yuno glances at a few street vendors as he goes. He knows which ones sell good food now, which ones sell trinkets and baubles that aren’t so cheap they’ll just fall apart after a few days. Sometimes when Asta feels like taking a walk, Yuno puts his clothes back on and they walk around this part of the city together, Asta’s arm around his waist.

If anyone sees Yuno and remembers him as the school boy from the train, no one says it. No one bothers them. Two more faces to blend into the crowd, and Asta always tips well.

At the end of this street is a bar. Yuno knows it well from when he waltzed in at the age of fourteen, keyed up and desperate to feel  _ something. _ He was frustrated and confused, and the bouncer never asked for his ID because Yuno is tall and  _ looks _ mature. Looks like a handsome young adult instead of a boy picking his way through the world on unstable legs.

He knows that bar well, because that bar was where he met Asta for the first time.

His phone buzzes in his hand, and he slips behind a parked car so he can check his messages without stepping into anyone’s way. Another message from Asta.  _ Don’t put your choker on. I have something else I want to try instead. You can leave it in your bag. _

Yuno wets his lips and nods at the screen, sending back an affirmative that he understands and scoffing gently when Asta sends him a string of emojis in return. Sometimes he forgets which one of them is the adult— Only that isn’t really true. Because Yuno is always the one left flustered and desperate even after the simplest of messages.

No choker, though… He nods to himself. Asta had given him that choker after their first few weekends together, but if he wants Yuno to leave it in his bag, then Yuno will. There is no use in disobeying. He doesn’t like to start the weekend off with punishment.

Asta’s apartment is on the top floor of his building. Yuno has two keys: one to let himself into the lobby area of the building, and another to unlock Asta’s door when he reaches it. No use in knocking, because Asta is expecting him, and he’d told Yuno once that Yuno is the only person with a key to his apartment. A joke, that he has to be careful about losing the one he has, because it would be embarrassing to say he also lost the spare.

Ralph has never noticed either key, but Yuno has been careful. He has one for the townhouse and a few assorted others Ralph wanted him to have, and he started picking up the habit of buying little decorative keychains to mask how many keys he had. As if Ralph would ever think to ask. Who would ever check how many keys their ward carries around?

Yuno is thorough, though. And so is Asta, which is why they have a routine.

The apartment is small but tidy. Everything is always neatened up when Yuno comes to visit, and now is no different. He leaves his shoes on the mat next to the door and hangs up his jacket on the coat rack before carrying his school bag to the spare bedroom that almost no one ever uses. Occasionally, Asta says, a friend might stay over.

But on the weekends, the room is where Yuno leaves his bag to keep it out of the way.

He has two textbooks and the binder he keeps his homework assignments in stored inside, and the rest are casual clothes. The choker itself has its own faux velvet bag tucked into the very front pocket so that nothing happens to it, but Yuno leaves it there because Asta told him to. It makes him itch a little, wondering what Asta is going to put on him— Or what he wants to do with Yuno’s neck. They have to be careful not to leave marks.

The choker is about ownership, anyway. A training collar, so to speak.

Yuno leaves it in his bag. He strips out of his school uniform slowly, carefully folding it and setting it on the empty desk so that nothing happens to it during his stay. His socks go with it, because the plain white ones he wears to school are comfortable during the day, but Asta likes him in something… Different. Something a little more interesting.

There are some clothes, as a result, that he leaves only at Asta’s apartment.

He lays out a couple things on his desk. The essay he’d turned in that they talked about last week, with a perfect grade in the top right corner. The report card showing that he’s doing excellent in his classes— Better than he had been, now that he has an outlet for stress and can spend a couple of days out of his own head.

Asta should be proud of him. But first he needs to get dressed.

Through the thin doors he can hear the shower running, the sound of a radio over the spray. Yuno pays it no mind. Instead, he lays his casual clothes out— in case Asta wants to leave the apartment with Yuno in tow— and goes to the dresser to select an outfit from the bottom drawer. The bottom drawer, because all the other drawers are empty, and after checking one or two, most people wouldn’t keep going.

Yuno isn’t allowed underwear in the apartment. If he gets cold, Asta will give him a blanket, but he wants Yuno accessible through the entire weekend. He selects a pair of socks to wear and one of a half dozen or so cut-off shirts that used to belong to Asta, old and thin and worn, giving him as much access to Yuno’s body as he could ask for.

The shirt is black, the sleeves chopped off as well, and the bottom of hit flutters around Yuno’s ribcage after he tugs it over his head. It always feels odd in the very beginning not to have any pants, any underwear, but Asta told him a long time ago it wasn’t necessary.

_ You want me to play with your cunt, don’t you? So why would you cover it up? _

The memory makes his skin prickle. Yuno perches on the edge of the mattress to tug on his socks, simple white thigh-highs that keep his feet and legs warm most of the time. There’s science behind it, too, how wearing socks helps achieve orgasm. There are some weekends where Asta keeps him perpetually on the edge and some where Asta is more content to shove him over it again and again until Yuno is too weak to form coherent words.

Appropriately dressed, Yuno leaves the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him, and takes up his place kneeling patiently by the kitchen doorway. If Asta cooks for them, Yuno waits here. Otherwise, he kneels by the chair Asta usually sits in in the living room.

Waiting patiently is half the battle on the first day. Sometimes Asta takes his time even acknowledging that Yuno exists, occasionally walking right past him without a word while Yuno stares down at the floor and focuses on his breathing. It’s enough to get him worked up sometimes. It’s enough to get him worked up  _ now, _ kneeling on the floor like a good little pet, his thighs spread wide and his cunt on display. The apartment is warm, but he’s hot enough that the air wafting against it feels cool, feels teasing. It makes him pant softly.

The shower stops. The radio stops. Yuno hears footsteps on the tiles, the shifting of fabric as Asta no doubt gets dressed, and he waits with his head down and his hands resting on his thighs like a good boy. Asta was kind enough to teach him the proper position, his hands lingering on Yuno’s knees after shoving them wide apart, asking if he understood with an intensity that made Yuno’s entire body shudder in response.

He understood. Yuno is smart, and he pays attention to what he’s told.

When the bathroom door opens, it takes everything in his power not to look up, to seek Asta out with his eyes. He has to behave now. He knows how to follow the rules.

Asta walks down the hallway, but not to him. He stops at Yuno’s bedroom instead, slipping inside for a moment before he comes back out, likely retrieving Yuno’s phone. Of course, Yuno replies to every text and answers every call— But Asta keeps the phone on him the entire time, only letting Yuno have it to do those things, and something about losing even that small bit of control is enough to make Yuno’s heart rate pick up.

He probably also saw what Yuno left on his desk, and hopefully it pleases him.

“Hi, Yuno!” The bright, cheerful tone of voice makes Yuno’s heart thud ridiculously faster, and he swallows hard as Asta’s slippered feet come into his line of sight. “Don’t you look pretty today? I saw your report card. You’re doing really well in school!”

Yuno’s face reddens slightly. His hands flex on his bare thighs. “Thank you, Sir.”

A hand slips into his hair, stroking through it slowly, petting him like an owner greeting a docile animal after a day at work. “And I guess that essay didn’t give you as much trouble as you thought it was going to. You’re so smart, you know that? I’m very proud of you.”

The praise is light and easy, and nothing Yuno has not heard from other people in his life. But from Asta, coupled with gently stroking his hair, it makes Yuno’s thighs twitch. He doesn’t let them close because he knows to hold position unless Asta wants him to move, and it makes him feel vulnerable all over again. Sitting here on Asta’s floor in a cut-up t-shirt and a pair of socks, just waiting for the first explicit command.

At the same time, it excites him. He never has to think at Asta’s feet.

“Have you touched yourself?” Asta asks in the same casual, friendly tone of voice that he uses with everyone, and Yuno swallows hard as he shakes his head. Of course not. “And why is that, Yuno? Why haven’t you touched yourself even though I know you want to?”

Yuno wets his lips with the tip of his tongue. “Because it belongs to you, Sir.”

“Everything in the apartment belongs to me, including you.” Asta’s hand pats him on top of the head, condescendingly like he’s a little child. “But I think you already know that. I’m asking you what specifically belongs to me. Can you tell me?”

“My cunt, Sir.” Yuno’s cheeks warm at the words. At being made to state it so bluntly. “My cunt belongs to you, Sir, and that’s why I haven’t touched myself. It isn’t mine to touch.”

Asta claps for him. It’s demeaning, but it makes Yuno perk up just a little. “That’s right, I just wanted to double check that you knew that. Do you want to touch it?”

“If it pleases you.” Yuno wants to look up at him so badly, wants to seek the warmth of Asta’s eyes, but he keeps his gaze on the floor and waits like a good boy is supposed to.

“What a good answer. Hold on, let me get comfortable.” Asta sits in front of him in the hallway. It isn’t wide enough to give them much room to do this, and his knees are a hair’s breadth away from where Yuno is kneeling. “Look up at me. I want to see your pretty face.”

Given permission, Yuno looks up. To most people, Asta would probably blend into the crowd even more than Yuno does. Yuno is tall and handsome, and he has people complimenting his looks in a lot of places he goes. But Asta is short, with messy hair that seems to slip between bright silvery and palest gold depending on the lighting. It’s his eyes that caught Yuno that first night, wide and bright and greener than anything he’s ever seen.

He’s shorter than Yuno, but built better. All heavy muscle packed onto his small frame so that he can manhandle Yuno with ease without even really having to try. Being pulled across his lap makes Yuno feel so ridiculously small sometimes, but he kind of revels in it.

What makes Asta actually stand out is the warmth and enthusiasm he just seems to naturally exude. Yuno could just bask in his presence and feel comfortable.

“There, now I can see better. You look so pretty today.” Asta cups a hand around his bare hip, the calluses on his fingers teasing over Yuno’s skin as he strokes up to his ribs.

“Thank you, Sir.” Yuno drinks in praise like water, like air. He just can’t help himself.

Asta leans back against the wall, and his eyes adopt a slightly sharper edge. “Now that I’m comfortable, touch your cunt. Show me how wet you can get for me.”

Yuno licks the pads of his fingers and dips a hand between his thighs. Masturbating in front of Asta is normal now, easy compared to other things. His clit is already hard just kneeling here and waiting, from Asta’s casual touch and praise. The anticipation makes his body warm up so quickly now, like it’s so conditioned to the way Asta touches him and treats him that he’s ready to be fucked as soon as he gets dressed for the weekend.

He takes slow, deep breaths. Strokes his clit in easy circles, holding eye contact with Asta like he knows he should for it. Asta likes to watch his expressions more than he does Yuno’s fingers. Now Yuno knows not to hold anything back, letting his mouth fall open a little on soft pants, his eyes drifting shut just a little as the slow, uncoiling warmth tingles beneath his skin. He isn’t allowed to masturbate during the week unless he’s willing to risk getting caught, propped up against his pillows with his laptop situated between widespread legs so the webcam catches everything. Because Asta likes to watch, even then.

But his week was busy, and this is the first time Yuno’s hand has crept down to his cunt since Sunday. He’s a good boy, because he doesn’t want Asta to be disappointed in him.

“Such a good boy.” Asta’s smile widens as Yuno strokes himself faster, and he can hear the slick little noises his fingers make. “Bet you’ve been feeling empty since we weren’t able to play at all this week. You want to cockwarm for me after we eat?”

Yuno’s breath hitches and he nods quickly, barely resisting the urge to slide his fingers back to where he’s wet. His hole clenches tight around nothing, because the minute Asta made the offer, his body knew to respond. “Please, Sir, I’ll be so good.”

“Consider it a reward for the good grades and the essay.” Asta leans closer to him. He brushes Yuno’s hair off of his forehead and kisses it, then tugs Yuno’s wrist, pulling his fingers away from his clit. “I just wanted you good and wet for that. Let’s eat.”

The food is still warm. Soup and soft bread, something easy to fill Yuno’s stomach and warm him up from the inside, but nothing too heavy to make playing hard. It’s strenuous sometimes, when Asta is in the mood, but today he seems like he’s in a good mood. He watches Yuno eat with a hawk’s gaze that Yuno feels down into his soul, but he cleans his bowl and takes all the dishes to the sink. He’ll load the dishwasher later.

He has chores at home, and a few he does here for Asta. It’s different here. Yuno likes being ordered around, and he likes getting a head pat when he does something well.

“Yuno.” Asta’s voice is light and teasing. “You left a wet spot on the chair. Come clean it.”

A quick glance at his chair reveals Asta is right. The gleam of wetness makes his cheeks burn, but Yuno obediently bends over to lick it clean like he knows he’s supposed to. The earthy taste of his own arousal makes him shiver. Before he can straighten up, Asta grips him by the hips, holding him in place. All he can do is brace his hands on the seat of the chair to keep himself steady, especially when he feels a warm breath on his folds.

“You really are so pretty, Yuno.” Asta kisses the back of his thigh, a flick of warm tongue making Yuno whimper softly. “My good little boy always comes to visit looking so nice. Does anyone else get to see you when you look this pretty? They better not.”

“No, Sir, only you.” Because Asta doesn’t share. It was one of the first few rules they discussed with each other. If Yuno wants to be with someone else, this ends first.

As if he wants this to end. He’d pick Asta over anyone his own age in a heartbeat.

“Are you this wet just because I said you can sit on my cock?” Asta laughs a little and Yuno squeezes his eyes shut. “Is that why you made such a mess of the chair?”

“Yes, Sir.” There’s no use in denying what Asta already knows to be true.

“Aww, how cute! It’s been a long week for you, hasn’t it?” Asta’s hands move. Letting go of his hips to grip his ass instead, spreading his cheeks wide until Yuno feels helplessly exposed. “You’re almost dripping. And you didn’t touch yourself once all week?”

Yuno shakes his head, then realizes Asta can’t see him. “No, Sir, I didn’t.”

Every exhale puffs against his cunt and Yuno grips the chair tighter, feeling the way his hole tightens around nothing, squeezes around empty air. He’s all the more desperate once Asta promises he’ll sate Yuno’s needs, selfish and greedy but he keeps it bottled up inside and hopes Asta doesn’t punish him for making such a mess.

“You didn’t, hmm?” Asta’s thumb brushes along the edge of his labia, and Yuno exhales heavily through his teeth. “Not even here, on the outside? You didn’t touch here?”

“N-No, Sir.” Yuno has to focus on keeping his balance, with Asta holding him like this.

“Not there, either?” His thumb slides through slick, tracing Yuno’s hole before dipping inside  _ just _ enough for Yuno to feel the slight stretch of it. “Not inside your tight little pussy? Or did you reserve that just for me this weekend?”

Yuno clenches around his thumb. Gushes, helplessly wet. “It’s y-yours, Sir, I didn’t.”

“Oh?” Asta’s touch slides up to his clit, swollen and hard, and circles it a few times. Yuno’s hips buck just once before he hardens his stance, unwilling to move. To seek out the pleasure he wants so badly, because Asta would be disappointed. “Your clit’s so hard, Yuno, you didn’t touch it, here? Didn’t rub it and wish you were doing it for me?”

A whine leaves his lips, and Yuno shakes his head so hard it rattles his skull. “No, Sir!”

“Why does this belong to me, Yuno? Can you remember?” Asta keeps playing with his clit, the firm press of his thumb making Yuno’s thighs shiver. “What did I tell you?”

“I’m yours, Sir,” Yuno says, and Asta kisses his thigh again. “So my cunt is yours, too.”

“Right.” This time, Asta kisses him on the cunt. A wet, open-mouthed kiss, tongue flicking up against his clit and sliding back to his hole, and Yuno squeals a little. It’s so sudden, so hot and wet that his entire body jolts from the burst of hot pleasure in his gut. “Mm, you taste so good, too. All right, let’s go to the living room. Get on your hands and knees.”

Asta walks ahead of him, and Yuno follows like an obedient dog. His cunt tingles and throbs from Asta’s touch, Asta’s lips, Asta’s promise and he’s always embarrassed at how fast his body lights up just for Asta. But of course it does. Asta was his first, and his only, teaching Yuno how to take his cock, how to come on command, how to obey him and get rewarded for it, how to be disciplined and patient even when it was difficult. What punishment tasted like, and the comfort that came after, the warmth and safety.

The tile of the kitchen gives way to the plusher carpet of the living room, and Asta takes a seat in his favorite chair. It’s wide enough to accommodate both of them when Yuno wants to sit in his lap, either for cuddles or stretched open on his cock.

Yuno kneels next to it while Asta gets comfortable, then crawls around in front of it when Asta whistles for him. Like a good boy, like a dog. Like Asta’s bitch in heat.

“Come here.” Asta beckons and Yuno presses against the chair between his legs, shivering when Asta’s knuckles stroke down the front of his throat. “You left the choker off just like I said. Do you want to know why I asked you to leave it in your backpack?”

“No, Sir.” It isn’t his place to ask questions when Asta gives him commands.

“Close your eyes for me, all right?” Asta kisses him on the forehead and Yuno does as he’s told, eyelids fluttering shut. He can feel and hear Asta moving, the sound of something opening. “I’m going to put something around your neck. Don’t panic. It’s not going to choke.”

“I understand, Sir.” Choking is a hard limit, if it’s something wrapped around his neck. Yuno doesn’t mind gagging while he sucks Asta’s cock, but having anything constricting around his neck made him feel skittish. The choker is fine, because it doesn’t  _ actually _ choke him.

Something softly slides around his throat, and Yuno’s breath stutters at the sound of Asta fumbling with something metallic. The sound  _ clink _ of metal against metal is so loud in Yuno’s ears for a moment, along with the subtle brushes of Asta’s fingers against his throat. Delicate, light touches that make his face feel hot, his body tingling and he wants to lean into it so badly. He loves it when Asta just touches him, pets his hair or face, plays with his body. He feels like a doll, like a toy, but it always gets him hot.

“There we go.” Asta taps him on the cheek and Yuno opens his eyes, stretching up a hand when Asta nods to him. “You can touch it. Tell me what it feels like to you.”

Leather, cool under his fingers, with a metal clasp. Yuno touches it for a few seconds and then rapidly blinks his eyes, the stinging sensation telling him he’s going to start crying if he doesn’t get control of himself. “A c-collar, Sir?”

“You’ve been nothing but good, pet, I thought you’d earned it.” Asta kisses him on the forehead, hooks a finger under the leather and tugs Yuno a bit closer so he can kiss him properly. He tastes like their food, and Yuno’s arousal. “So you’ve earned your collar. You’ll keep it in your bag and put it on when you come to visit me from now on. Got it?”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” Yuno sniffles softly, just a little, and Asta rewards him with another kiss. Slow and warm, lips moving confidently against his and leaving him trembling.

Asta strokes his cheek and Yuno leans into it, his mouth falling open a little against Asta’s palm. “I don’t really want to go get lube now that I’m comfortable, so use your mouth to get me wet enough for you to sit on. Show your appreciation for that collar.”

He doesn’t make any move to take his cock out, so Yuno does it for him with a thankful little noise caught in his throat. He forgets about himself entirely for a moment, hands working to pull Asta’s sweatpants down enough to free the erection Yuno can see bulging beneath the grey fabric. It makes him excited to think that Asta got so turned on just watching him play with himself, just by touching his cunt and  _ tasting _ him and maybe if Yuno is especially good this weekend, Asta will lay him on the bed and eat him out.

A little shiver of delight works its way down his spine, and then his hands are full of hot, swollen flesh. Asta’s cock is flushed dark, the head already damp with pre-come. Yuno can’t resist just a taste before he presses wet kisses to the shaft, long slow licks of his tongue that have Asta sighing. A hand slips into his hair seemingly just to touch him and Yuno basks in it, making a mess of his own face in an effort to get Asta ready.

“Excitable, aren’t you?” Asta gives his hair a tug and Yuno lets himself be drawn up into the chair, reaching out to balance his hands on the back of it. “Ah, ah, hands on me.”

“Sorry, Sir.” Yuno drops his hands down, wrapping them around Asta’s shoulders, feeling the thick muscle under his thighs as his knees hug Asta’s hips. The hot jut of his cock just kisses Yuno’s cunt, the angle not quite right. “Is this all right?”

“Perfect.” Asta reaches between them. Yuno looks down and watches him wrap short, thick fingers around his cock. “No, no, Yuno, look up at me. I want to watch your face.”

Yuno looks up at him. Poised on his lap like this, hands resting on Asta’s shoulders, almost dripping wet because of him, all he can do is wait breathlessly. The swollen head teases against his slit and he whines softly, wanting to close his eyes but he doesn’t. It’s hard. He feels almost overwhelmed on the first day, when all the layers are peeled back and he’s just Asta’s good little boy, obedient to a fault because he wants to please Asta.

“Your pussy’s so hot, Yuno,” Asta teases him, and Yuno nods because it’s true, because there’s no denying it. “Sit nice and pretty on my cock for me, okay?”

“Yes, Sir— Oh!” Yuno gasps and grips his shoulders tighter. He has to, because Asta presses his cock inside, just the head pushing inside where Yuno is so wet and empty. The stretch is divine, because Asta didn’t finger him open first to get him used to it. “Hah—”

Asta grips Yuno’s hip in one hand and slowly tugs him down, helping him side down on the full girth of Asta’s cock. Yuno’s only been with him, but he’s seen enough other men naked to know Asta is big, thick enough to make him sweat and long enough to ease the aching emptiness in his core. He’s panting by the time their hips come neatly together, blissed out and finally where he wants to be most, curled in Asta’s lap and vice-like tight around him.

“You have such a nice cunt, Yuno. So tight and warm.” Asta pets his face and Yuno whimpers softly, opening his mouth when Asta taps his lower lip. He sucks on Asta’s fingers without a thought, and they taste like him. Taste like where Asta touched him. “Good?”

All he can do is gurgle weakly around Asta’s fingers. Drool drips slowly over his bottom lip and down his chin, but Asta doesn’t seem to mind at all.

He wipes his fingers dry on Yuno’s bare thigh, then slips his hand under the edge of the crop top. “Wanna lift this up for me? It’s cute, but I want to see your tits.”

“Yes, Sir.” Yuno slurs the words, and his hands are clumsy as he reaches for the bottom of his shirt. Cool air tickles over his skin and feels almost sharp against his nipples, hard without Asta having to touch them, because he’s seated so deep inside Yuno that it doesn’t matter. And just like his cunt, he knows his breasts belong to Asta, too.

And he hadn’t wanted to show Asta his chest at first, he’d been skittish and nervous about it, but Asta just pats him on the cheek. “Good boy. You relax. I’m going to play with them.”

“S-Sir?” Yuno gives his head a little shake, trying to clear it. “C-can I take my shirt off?”

“Hmm. Well, I don’t see why not. Leaves you in just my collar and the socks, and that’s awfully cute…” Asta takes the shirt out of his hands and lifts it up over Yuno’s head. “You can have it back if you get cold. Did you play with these while you were away?”

“No, Sir. They’re yours.” Yuno swallows hard and arches his back a little, hands timidly sliding up his chest to cup them. They’re small enough he can get away without having to wear anything to hide them, and now he offers them to Asta like he does the rest of his body. But he doesn’t touch like he knows Asta means. “Just yours to play with.”

Asta touches his face, wipes a bit of spit away from the corner of his mouth. “You’re the best, Yuno, so good at knowing your place. So just relax and let me touch you.”

Sometimes Yuno wears clamps for him, with a thin chain hanging between them that Asta will tug on periodically, unevenly so Yuno is never prepared. He’s had Asta’s mouth on his nipples, alternating between the warm heat of his tongue and the ice cold bite of an ice cube. They’ve been suckled and bitten until they’re sensitive and swollen, anything Asta really wants to do with his body. He’s allowed, within Yuno’s limits.

But he settles on something easier now. He tugs Yuno forward a little, kissing up his sternum, to the base of his throat before taking a nipple in his mouth. Asta is so good with his mouth, the gentle flicks and curls of his tongue and the light suction making Yuno gush around his cock. He can’t help the way he ripples inside, the gentle throb of his clit or the way his back arches, pressing against Asta’s mouth. Chasing the sensations, because when Asta gives him pleasure, it’s so all-consuming that Yuno can barely think.

He doesn’t notice it, at first. The little slivers and rolls of warmth in his stomach, caressing him from the inside as he slumps in Asta’s grip. A gentle, swelling, gradual build so careful that it almost slips his attention entirely, but when he notices it, he grabs for Asta’s shoulders with lightly trembling hands. He has to be good. He  _ has _ to.

“S-Sir, I’m going—” He stops when Asta slaps him on the thigh, the sudden sharp sound of it more shocking than the impact itself. And Asta laughs against his skin.

“I know you are. I can feel you clenching around me. Poor thing, you haven’t come all week, right?” Asta drops a hand between them again, thumbing over Yuno’s clit in slow little circles that Yuno’s hips instinctively try to follow. “Do you wanna come on my cock? You’ll still be sitting here for a while, but I’ll let you beg me to come if you want to.”

Yuno thinks about that… Then slowly shakes his head and watches as Asta’s eyes glitter, his smile widening as he keeps stroking Yuno’s clit. “I can wait, Sir.”

“What a good boy you are.” Asta kisses him, and it feels like he passed a test.

Yuno lets himself be pulled forward until his head rests against the back of the chair, eyes drifting closed as Asta plays with his chest. He doesn’t need to come, not yet. Just being full, with Asta’s hands on his body and Asta’s praise lingering in his head, is enough.

Besides, they have the entire weekend to play together, and he’d rather come with Asta right on the brink so he can make a mess of Yuno in every way possible.

**Author's Note:**

> this is just pure self-indulgence at its finest


End file.
